


A Momentary Lapse of Reason

by Dazzlious



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 16:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9132403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dazzlious/pseuds/Dazzlious
Summary: What happens when Hermione holds out her hand . . . and why did she do it?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from JK Rowling’s fantastic books or films, I’m just borrowing and playing with them for a little while and get no monetary reward for doing so. 
> 
> A/N: So here’s another romance, brought about partly by a desire to change the ending of the last book to something more appropriate — in my view at least (not the epilogue, I’m ignoring that) and by the thought that just one little change to the story would be enough to cause it. Thanks, as always to my lovely beta, Mamacita, and to you for reading. Dx

 

If you had asked her at the time why she had done it — as Ron had done both incredibly loudly and extremely bad-temperedly — Hermione wouldn’t have been able to give you an answer; at least not a rational one. She still wasn’t sure what it was that had made her hold out her hand to him, had made her forget not only the crappy treatment of the last few days but the previous six years of animosity and his allegiance to Voldemort and the Death Eaters. She had known it was stupid, she didn’t need her friends to tell her that . . . and yet she had done it anyway.

It was something to do with his eyes and the look on his face, she decided, when she thought about it as she walked along the beach alone, her bare feet kicking up the damp sand being lapped by the incoming tide, the need to escape the sniping and recriminations overwhelming her. In all the years she had known Draco Malfoy he had always worn the same irritating smirk, except for a few odd occasions when he had looked scared — usually because of panic that he was about to get into trouble for whatever awful thing he had just done to her and her friends. But what had been on his face as they clustered around Dobby, preparing to escape — well, Hermione had never seen a look like it before and seriously hoped she never would again.

It was funny how something so momentous and argument-inducing could stem from a split-second decision, although Hermione didn’t find it all that amusing at the moment. She was actually in considerable pain from what had happened to her at Malfoy Manor, but although she had hoped for a soft bed in which to take a long and much-needed sleep, with some sort of pain-relieving potion to dull the hurt, she was instead subjected to a barrage of abuse that saw her taking flight, annoyed and upset with her friends for the way they were treating her.

They were unhappy with her for what they called a momentary lapse of reason — she preferred to think of it as a random act of kindness — and what it might mean for them and the others, those who had worked so tirelessly to rescue them. Although Draco voluntarily took her hand, obviously as keen as the rest of them to escape Malfoy Manor, her friends were certain that his family wouldn’t see it that way. They seemed to believe that the Malfoys would think he had been abducted by them, taken prisoner to make up for their own incarceration, and this would then incite more violence to erupt against the Order of the Phoenix.

Her reaction probably had been stupid and ill-judged, Hermione knew that, but despite the fuss it had caused she was unable to find it within herself to feel guilty for what she had done, and no amount of shouting was going to change that. She sighed loudly as she stopped walking and watched her feet and ankles disappear beneath the shifting sand as the water washed over them, then receded. The water was absolutely freezing — it was only the end of March, after all — but as soon as she had seen the sea the desire to get her feet wet, a hangover from her childhood love of the seaside, had ganged up with the need to get away from the arguments, leading her into leaving the cottage with its bickering inhabitants. Now she could feel her feet going numb and the pain coursing through her body was building up. Hermione knew she couldn’t stay out here much longer, but the idea of returning to that melee really didn’t appeal.

She hadn’t seen Draco since they arrived. He had been unceremoniously locked in Bill and Fleur’s bedroom whilst Ron and even Harry raged at her. The cottage’s owners joined in with the sniping — a little too easily in Fleur’s case, Hermione thought bitterly — once they finished housing their other guests. Hermione understood why they were unhappy with her, she really did, but if they had just seen the look on Draco’s face at that decisive moment she was sure they would understand why she had reached out to him. In that moment Draco had looked completely lost, devastated by the knowledge that they were escaping and leaving him alone with his family and the wrath of Voldemort, and there was horror and grief, too, when he realised that Bellatrix’s knife had found its mark and buried itself in Dobby’s chest. Hermione had seen all this and she had reacted accordingly.

She thought about the charges that were being levelled at her for what she had done and couldn’t help feeling aggrieved. She was convinced she had rescued Draco just as much as they had rescued Dean, Luna, Mr Ollivander and Griphook, although she suspected that because of their hatred for the blond boy Harry and Ron would never see it that way, however hard she tried to convince them.

Hermione heaved another sigh as she finally made it back to the cottage, pausing outside the kitchen window to listen to the shouting still going on inside the house. She shivered, cold now, as she listened to Ron — of course — still bellowing about how stupid she had been, and her anger rose as she heard the names he was calling her. They were more the sort of thing she would have expected from Draco than from someone who was supposed to be her best friend, and with whom she had thought there might even be romance brewing.

She suddenly realised that the retaliatory voice she could hear, the one that was taking her side and attempting to calm Ron down, was Draco who, it seemed, had finally been released from the bedroom. The mind boggled. If Hermione had been asked at any point during the six years she had spent at Hogwarts whether Draco Malfoy would ever defend her the answer would be a resounding no, probably with several exclamation marks after the word just to make sure. Yet here he was trying to talk rationally and calmly to Ron, although Hermione didn’t much rate his chances knowing how pig-headed and unreasonable the redhead could be when the mood took him.

Hermione was trying to keep her teeth from chattering as she shivered again. Her feet were like blocks of ice now and she really wanted to go inside and have a hot bath or even just put on some warm, clean socks and take that painkiller, but she couldn’t face the bombardment she would get from the others. Why had she been such an idiot and gone paddling? Ron kept going on about how she was mental, and maybe he was right. It definitely hadn’t been the sensible thing to do . . . just like saving Draco hadn’t been the sensible thing to do.

She jumped as a hand touched her shoulder. Hermione had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts and trying to subjugate the pain that she hadn’t realised the door had opened and Harry, seeing her through the window, had left the cottage to join her. She stared at him through the dark, seeing him only in shadow and then only because of the light streaming through the kitchen window and under the door. He looked angry but nowhere near as bad as Ron, who was still in full rant mode.

‘I suppose you’ve come to have a go at me as well, have you, Harry?’ Hermione asked sadly.

Harry shook his head. Sounding weary, he said, ‘No, I just wanted to find out why you did it, Hermione. I assume you must have had a good reason even though no one else can understand it.’

Hermione stared at her friend for a moment as she debated what to tell him. Another massive shiver of combined pain and cold ran through her entire body. Harry looked at her worriedly for a moment, gauging the look of pain on her face, then looked down at her bare feet.

‘Why aren’t you wearing shoes?’ he asked in confusion.

Hermione looked at the sea as if that explained everything.

‘Please tell me you didn’t just go paddling. Not in March,’ Harry said, sounding exasperated.

‘I love the sea,’ Hermione explained, her voice small. She sounded like she was about eight years old.

‘We all love the sea, Hermione, but we don’t all go paddling in the middle of winter.’

‘It’s not winter, it’s spring,’ Hermione retorted. Then, realising that was a pointless comment, she added, ‘I needed to get away from the arguing for a bit; wanted to give you all a chance to calm down.’ She looked unhappily back towards the kitchen where Ron was still grumbling away and sighed. ‘Unfortunately, that didn’t work.’

‘Ron just can’t understand why you brought Malfoy along, and neither can the rest of us,’ Harry said. ‘Especially after what he and his family did to you.’

‘Draco didn’t do anything to me,’ Hermione pointed out. ‘That was his aunt. There’s no way he could have stopped that mad bitch from hurting me. If you remember, he actually tried to help us when he refused to confirm who you were. There’s no way he wouldn’t have known that, Harry.’

‘He was probably just scared,’ Harry replied sneeringly.

‘We’re all scared,’ Hermione said quietly. ‘But what Draco did was brave — even if you can’t see that.’

‘But I still don’t understand why you held your hand out to him,’ Harry said.

‘Because I saw the look on his face and I couldn’t leave him there,’ Hermione admitted. ‘I think he realised Bellatrix had killed Dobby before we Apparated. I saw the look of pain and despair on his face, and terror that we were going to leave him with his poor pathetic parents and his mad aunt . . . and I felt sorry for him.’

‘Felt sorry for him? Hermione!’ Harry looked at her as if she was mad. ‘Do you think he would have done the same for you if you had been in his place?’

Hermione shrugged. ‘That isn’t really the point, is it? You don’t just help someone because they would help you if the situation was reversed, Harry.’ She stared at him again. ‘Do you think Griphook would have helped us to get away?’

Harry shook his head, knowing Hermione had a point. The goblin had agreed to help them with the deception about the sword of Gryffindor only because it was in his best interest to do so. But it still rankled that Hermione had saved their greatest enemy at school without even a trace of remorse. He saw her shiver again, which caused another grimace of pain and realised that her mouth had a blue tinge to it. She really needed to get inside and get warm before she ended up making herself ill; that was the last thing they needed. He put his arm gently around her shoulder, trying not to notice her wince of pain as he touched her.

‘Come on, let’s get you inside before you freeze to death. I can’t promise Ron’s going to forgive you but I will try to get him to shut up for long enough to let you explain.’ Harry grinned at Hermione and indicated her bare feet. ‘You do know he’s going to tell you that you’re mental again, don’t you?’

 

 

(♥_♥)

 

 

Harry was quite glad to get out of the cottage to dig a grave for Dobby. The atmosphere was still charged and it was good to get away, despite its being for a job as depressing as this. Even after Hermione had explained her reasons for helping Draco, Ron continued to be belligerent towards her until Fleur finally took her away and put her to bed with a pain-relieving potion. Luna went with them and Draco trailed after the girls with Dean, looking rather lost. Harry decided he wasn’t going to get in the middle of the fight, and when Bill suggested burying Dobby he knew what he needed to do.

He was devastated by the death of the house-elf who had been such a good friend in the last few years and was determined to give Dobby a good send-off. He decided to dig the house-elf a grave using his hands, not magic. He needed the manual labour to give him time to process the grief, and it made it seem more personal somehow. He had been working for only a few minutes in the dark when he realised that someone was watching him. He looked up from the hole he had only just started to see Draco, who looked tense. A feeling of annoyance rushed through Harry at the blond boy’s just standing there. To be fair, he didn’t know what else Draco was supposed to do, but Harry wished he would go and do whatever it was somewhere else and not bug him.

‘Can I help you dig?’ Draco asked flatly after a few seconds, once he realised Harry wasn’t going to talk to him.

Harry looked at him for a moment as if debating whether to tell him to go away but then shrugged.

‘If you want.’

‘I do,’ Draco said, joining Harry in the depression in the ground. Harry realised he was carrying a shovel. ‘I liked Dobby and I’m really upset that aunt Bella killed him,’ Draco told him as he started to dig, his voice stiff as he tried to hold back his emotions.

Harry glared at him angrily. ‘I know how much you Malfoys like your house-elves — making them punish themselves for trivial things. Dobby was relieved to get away from you . . . and I’m glad I helped him.’

Draco sighed and said unhappily, ‘I’m not my father, Potter. He’s indifferent to house-elves and doesn’t see them as anything other than slaves, there to do whatever he commands. But Dobby was kind to me when I was younger. He looked after me and I really liked him. I tried to stop him from punishing himself, you know. But my father’s commands were always stronger than my attempts to stop him from hurting himself could ever be.’

Harry looked at him in surprise but didn’t say anything. He returned to digging.

‘My father was so angry when you freed Dobby, but I was actually quite pleased,’ Draco admitted, ‘although I’ll admit I was disappointed that he wasn’t going to be around any longer. You saw what Malfoy Manor’s like — not exactly the greatest place for a child — and Dobby always made me feel better about being stuck there during the holidays. The other house-elves were all too scared of risking my father’s wrath to spend any time with me, but Dobby was always there to cheer me up. I really missed him once he went.’ He sighed mournfully again.

The two of them worked in silence then, each wrapped up in his own grief, until eventually Dean and then finally Ron came to join them, and the four of them soon had the small grave dug. Harry wrapped Dobby up more tightly in the jacket he had put on him earlier. He looked surprised but gratified when Ron sat down and removed his socks, putting them on the elf’s feet. Dean, looking a little embarrassed, held out a woollen hat which they put on Dobby’s head, pulling it down over his big ears. Draco stood and watched them, seemingly frozen. Then before Harry could move Dobby, Draco pulled a ring off his finger, bent down, and stroking the house-elf's face gently he placed it in the pocket of the jacket. Harry realised with surprise that the blond boy was crying as he moved away.

‘We should close his eyes, don’t you think?’ a soft voice said, and Luna walked forward and did just that. ‘There. Now he looks like he’s sleeping.’

Harry looked around and realised that the others had joined them: Bill and Fleur and even Hermione, who he knew was in more pain than she had let on. He smiled at them all, grateful to see them. Then he picked Dobby up and laid him carefully in the grave, arranging him so, as Luna had said, he looked as if he was asleep. He stepped back and waited for everyone to say goodbye to the small figure that looked so tiny and forlorn. When they had all finished, Bill used his wand to cover the grave with the displaced soil.

‘Do you mind if I stay here for a while?’ Harry asked, making it clear he wanted to be alone.

He watched as the others slowly made their way back to the cottage, their lanterns swinging in the early morning gloom. He saw that Ron was supporting Hermione, their argument seemingly finally forgotten. He raised a hand to his face and realised that his cheeks were wet with tears. He looked around and spotted some flat white stones; choosing one, he laid it on top of Dobby’s grave. He put his hand in his pocket to find his wand and realised he had two, although after everything that had happened he couldn’t remember whose they were. He chose the smaller one, which somehow felt friendlier, and slowly began to mutter a spell to carve the words __‘__ _ _Here lies Dobby, a Free Elf__ _ _’__ into the stone. They weren’t neat but they were heartfelt. Once he finished carving he spent several more minutes thinking about Dobby before he finally made his way back to his friends and some much-needed sleep.

 

 

(♥_♥)

 

 

The tension between Ron and Draco grew worse the longer they stayed at the cottage. Ron had made it clear when they first arrived that Hermione should never have brought Draco along, but as the days passed while they waited for Hermione and the others to heal, Harry quietly planning in his mind what the next move should be — still torn between whether to look for the remaining Horcruxes or chase down the Deathly Hallows — it got worse. Every time Ron and Draco were in the same room together they started bickering, seemingly taking it in turns to wind each other up, and everyone was fed up to the back teeth with the pair of them.

Harry had never liked Draco. From as long ago as the first time he met him he was unable to stomach the boy’s uncaring racism and superior attitude, but he had been thinking about what Hermione said about his actions at Malfoy Manor and had come to the conclusion that she was probably right. What Draco had done was brave and had saved them from being caught and killed by Voldemort . . . which meant there was a possibility that Draco wasn’t as enamoured of the megalomaniac as the rest of his family were. Harry didn’t trust Draco, not yet at any rate, but he wondered whether the boy could be persuaded to come over to their side.

Ron, however, didn’t feel the same way. He had no intention of letting go of the animosity he felt towards Draco, however much Harry tried to talk to him about it. Nor was he willing to cut Hermione any slack for what she had done. Even now he was still complaining about it, causing everyone within earshot to roll their eyes in despair as he launched into yet another diatribe. Harry could understand his friend’s feelings to some extent, especially as it made planning anything particularly difficult because they couldn’t speak freely with Draco around, and the Slytherin boy was always lurking. But he couldn’t help feeling that at some point they had to give Draco the benefit of the doubt and trust that he wouldn’t betray them, even if only because Hermione had saved him from Merlin only knew what fate back at Malfoy Manor.

Harry had been rolling a plan around in his mind regarding locating another of the Horcruxes, and he wanted to discuss it with Ron and Hermione to see whether they thought it was viable. But trying to get them together, away from everyone else and not bickering was proving almost impossible.

‘You should never have brought him,’ Ron grumbled, something he told Hermione at least three times a day since arriving at the cottage.

‘I’ve told you enough times why I did and I refuse to explain again,’ Hermione retorted coldly as she sat at the kitchen table attempting to eat her breakfast.

‘So what the bloody hell do you suggest we do with him, then? We can’t release him or he’ll tell the Death Eaters where we are and everything we’re planning to do,’ Ron continued, determined to have an argument with her.

Hermione sighed loudly. ‘And as I’ve also told you several times previously, it’s not possible for Draco to tell anyone where Shell Cottage is because it’s protected by a Fidelius charm, Ronald. No one can break that while the Secret Keeper is alive . . . not even You-Know-Who!’

‘Well, I still think—’

Hermione gave a growl of frustration and threw her spoon into the still half-full bowl of cereal, causing the milk to splash across the table. Without missing a beat she pushed her chair back, scraping it loudly along the stone floor so it blotted out Ron’s whinging. She stood up and walked out of the back door, slamming it behind her so hard that the lintels shook. Fleur sighed and moved towards the table to push the chair back in and clear up the mess.

‘You should not bait ‘er, Ronald,’ she admonished sternly. ‘‘Ermione needs to build ‘er strength up and that weel not ‘appen if she does not eat.’ She waved the bowl at Ron accusingly.

‘I just don’t know why she brought him,’ Ron said with a scowl.

Fleur scowled back and pointed towards the door. ‘Out! Get out now. I ‘ave ‘eard enough of all of zis. Go and apologise to ’Ermione.’

Ron looked at her mulishly, seemingly stunned that Fleur expected him to apologise. She wafted a tea towel at him.

‘Go on — go.’

Cantankerously, Ron got up from the table and wandered slowly towards the back door. Then, seeming to think better of it, he turned and disappeared through the kitchen door, completely ignoring Fleur’s advice.

Fleur sighed again and looked despairingly at Harry. ‘You need to sort them out, ‘Arry,’ she said.

Harry sighed, too. ‘What can I do? I’ve tried talking to Ron but you know what he’s like. And you’ve seen what happens every time they talk. Ron won’t apologise, not until he’s ready to. But you’re right, I do need to do something. We need to start planning our next move and we’re running out of time — and I need both of them.’

He looked towards the direction Ron had headed, debating whether to go and find him, but he didn’t really relish another argument. And there was nothing he could say to Hermione that he hadn’t already said. He fingered the wands in his pocket and decided his time would be better spent talking to Mr Ollivander, especially as he had some questions about the Elder Wand that he wanted to ask the man about. He left the kitchen and stopped for a moment outside the lounge, realising that Ron and Draco were in there together, and as had happened every time they found themselves alone, they were arguing. Harry sighed. Ron just seemed to be one big argument at the moment and he wasn’t up to breaking up that fight, either.

‘You know what your problem is, Weasley,’ Harry heard Draco telling Ron as he climbed the stairs. ‘You’re just upset because you know Hermione wants me, not you.’

Harry rolled his eyes and stopped walking. Oh lord, was Draco really using Hermione as bait? That was guaranteed to set Ron off. And why on earth would he say it when it obviously wasn’t true? What did he hope to gain by winding Ron up?

‘You? Why the hell would she be interested in you, __Ferret?__ She knows what a stinking, slimy—’

‘Didn’t stop her from wanting me along, though, did it?’ Draco said slyly, effectively shutting Ron up. Harry could picture the smug grin on the blond boy’s face. ‘Very eager for me to come with her, wasn’t she, and there can only be one reason for that.’ 

Harry heard Ron’s growl of fury and he leapt back down the stairs and opened the door to the lounge just in time to see Ron lunge at Draco. Harry rushed forward to grab his friend, pulling at his jumper to hold him back. The grin on the malicious Slytherin boy’s face grew when he realised he wasn’t going to be attacked.

‘You’re pathetic, Weasley. No wonder Hermione’s looking for something better.’

‘Well, you’re not it,’ Ron retorted angrily, still trying to pull away from Harry.

Draco looked him up and down as if assessing him. ‘Better than you’ll ever be, Weasel. She needs a real man, not an ill-tempered, bad-mouthing prat.’

Before Ron could reply or shrug himself free of Harry, Draco left the room, a smug look of superiority on his face.

‘That foul git!’ Ron lowered. ‘He’s talking rubbish about Hermione.’

‘He’s just trying to wind you up,’ Harry said, trying to calm his friend down. ‘You need to ignore him and he’ll stop doing it.’

‘But I don’t know why she brought him along,’ Ron moaned.

Harry sighed. ‘Hermione’s explained it to you several times now, Ron. I don’t like it any more than you do, but it’s done so we have to make the best of it. Fighting with Hermione and Malfoy isn’t helping. I need to talk to Ollivander. Are you going to come with me or do you want to go and find Hermione and patch things up with her?’

Ron scowled. ‘She probably won’t talk to me at the moment, so I’ll come with you.’

‘You need to talk to her properly . . . not shouting. I need you both to help me and we’ll never get anything done if you’re sniping at each other all the time. Remember what it was like when you and I were at each other’s throats?’ Harry reminded him.

Ron looked discomfited at the reminder of the arguments that had driven him away from his friends. He still felt guilty about it, even now.

Harry put his hand on Ron’s arm. ‘I’m not trying to make you feel bad, Ron because I know most of it was due to that stupid locket,’ he said sincerely. ‘But you __need__ to make things up with Hermione.’

Ron nodded his head. ‘It would be easier if we weren’t all stuck here.’

‘Well, we won’t be for much longer,’ Harry explained. ‘Hermione’s almost completely recovered, as are Griphook and Mr Ollivander, so we’ll all be able to leave soon.’

‘And go where?’ Ron asked despondently. ‘Where can we go? Especially if we have to take Malfoy with us.’

‘We’re not taking him anywhere,’ Harry said adamantly. ‘But I think I know where there’s another Horcrux, so we need to start making plans about how to get it.’

Ron looked much more interested now. ‘A Horcrux? Where is it?’

Harry shook his head. ‘I want Hermione to be there when I tell you so I don’t have to go through the same explanation twice. It’s just a guess at the moment, although I’m fairly certain I’m right. But I need you both.’

‘Shall we go and see Mr Ollivander, then? Ron asked.

Harry’s heart dropped. He had hoped that telling Ron about the Horcrux would spur him into going to see Hermione, but obviously the boy still retained too much anger with her after his argument with Draco. He nodded and followed Ron out of the door and up the stairs.

 

 

(♥_♥)

 

 

Hermione was feeling miserable. The pain Bellatrix Lestrange had inflicted on her had finally dissipated and she felt ready to help Harry with whatever he had planned next, but Ron’s continual sniping was really beginning to get her down and she didn’t know what she could do to stop him. As she had done so many times over the last few days she had left the cottage on her own, needing to get away. Today she had gone for a long walk along the beach, although this time she managed to refrain from paddling. The stiff wind blew her hair around as she tried hard to forget the hurtful things Ron had said to her. She couldn’t understand his continuing animosity when Draco had been nothing but grateful for her help. She hadn’t actually spoken to the blond boy much, but Hermione was certain that he wasn’t about to go running back to the Death Eaters any time soon and was unlikely to give away the little he knew of their plans.

Instead of heading back to the cottage Hermione wandered up into the sand dunes, hiding herself from everyone by sitting down behind large clumps of sea grass, where she was shielded from the wind. She was worried that they were wasting time they didn’t have. They should be tracking down the final Horcruxes, not hiding away at the cottage fighting about whether rescuing Draco had been a good or bad thing. She suspected that part of Ron’s belligerence came down to a reluctance to leave his family now he was back with them again, even if it was only his oldest brother. She could understand why he felt that way, but it wasn’t helpful, especially when they still had so much to do. She had counted on Ron’s help to stop Harry obsessing over those bloody Deathly Hallows. They were running out of time and he needed to find the Horcruxes, not get side-tracked as he already did far too easily.

Draco suddenly appeared behind the sand dune and Hermione jumped in surprise. She hadn’t heard or seen him approach, although to be fair she had been rather mired in her own misery and hadn’t taken much notice of what was going on around her. She didn’t want to talk to him, though.

‘Are you all right?’ Draco asked quietly.

He sat down next to Hermione without bothering to see whether she wanted him to or not.

Hermione shrugged.

‘I know Weasley’s been giving you a hard time,’ he continued.

Hermione shrugged again, hoping it would make him realise she didn’t want to talk to him.

‘I think he’s going a bit over the top, myself,’ Draco confided, clearly not bothered that she wasn’t replying. ‘Anyone would think he was jealous.’

‘Jealous?’ She couldn’t stop herself from asking the question. ‘Why would Ron be jealous?’

Draco smirked. ‘Because you brought me with you. I bet he thinks you had an ulterior motive.’

‘That’s ridiculous. Why on earth would he think that?’ Hermione retorted.

Draco shrugged now. Casually he announced, ‘Perhaps he thinks you fancy me.’

Hermione snorted. ‘Please, give me a break, Draco. Me, fancy you . . . don’t be ridiculous.’

‘So why did you hold out your hand to me, then?’ Draco asked.

‘Why did you take it?’ Hermione shot back.

Draco looked maudlin. ‘I saw what aunt Bella did to Dobby. I couldn’t believe she killed him like that. And after everything that had happened. . . .’ His voice trailed off as if he couldn’t speak.

Hermione nodded sympathetically. ‘I saw your face and I felt sorry for you. It seemed like such a terrible thing to leave you there.’

Draco looked put out for a moment at the idea of Hermione feeling sorry for him; his Pure-blood sensibilities rose up and he felt a malicious retort springing to his lips, almost automatic as it had been for the last six years. But he forced himself to calm down. The truth was that he had been as desperate as Hermione and her friends to get away from Malfoy Manor, especially knowing how the Dark Lord was likely to react to their escape, and he was more grateful than he wanted to admit for what Hermione had done. He felt a little guilty at leaving his parents to face the consequences alone but he was glad to be away from his mad aunt, especially after what she had done to Dobby . . . and Hermione, too, come to think of it.

‘I’m sorry about what my aunt did to you,’ he said, hoping the apology didn’t sound as stiff and false as he suspected it did. After all the years of animosity it was hard to talk to Hermione like a normal person, however much he wanted to.

Hermione stared at him for a long moment as if weighing whether his comment was genuine or not, then she shrugged.

‘It wasn’t your fault. I know you couldn’t have stopped her, whatever Harry and Ron want to think. Anyway, it’s just made me stronger . . . and more determined to put an end to this stupid blood status nonsense.’

Draco was relieved that Hermione didn’t blame him for his family’s actions, although he knew he wasn’t completely blameless. He had spent six years being mean to her because of the views his parents had drummed into him since he was a child; views that he had recently come to see were completely wrong. Yet even after everything he had done to Hermione she had still been willing to save him.

He watched her look back in the direction of the cottage and wondered what she was thinking about. He couldn’t help noticing how beautiful she was. There was a fragility about her that he had never noticed before, caused, he supposed, by the torture aunt Bella had put her through. She was recovering well enough but it was clear that it had taken its toll on her, however brave a face she put on it. And there was the arguing with Weasley, too. All these things were crushing her spirit, however hard she tried to fight. Draco found he had the urge to wrap his arms around her, to hold her tight and assure her that everything was going to be okay, even if it wasn’t.

As he continued to watch her Draco imagined what it would feel like to hold Hermione, how she would taste if he were to kiss her; imagined his lips softly brushing over hers before capturing them in a passionate kiss. The strength of his desire astonished him, although if he was honest he had always harboured a slight crush on her, as far back as he could remember. He had spent his entire time at school trying to pretend it wasn’t there — after all, he was a Pure-blood Slytherin and she a Muggle-born Gryffindor so they were completely unsuited — but Hermione’s rescuing him had pulled his desire into sharp focus.

He had told Weasley that Hermione had saved him because she fancied him because he knew it would annoy the temperamental boy. But although he wished it were true he was aware it was probably wishful thinking on his part. She really was lovely, though, and maybe, if he proved to her that he had changed, Hermione might look upon him more favourably. She was obviously willing to give him the benefit of the doubt because she had held her hand out to him. Perhaps he would get to kiss those beautiful lips after all. But did he have the courage to go for it?

Hermione went to get up, a low, mournful sigh escaping her lips as she said unenthusiastically, ‘I suppose we should get back to the cottage.’

Draco, who was still debating whether to kiss Hermione or not, knew his moment had come. He had to act now or let her go and resign himself to the fact that he would never know for certain what she tasted like because he wasn’t going to be able to get her alone again like this, at least not easily. It surely wouldn’t be long now until they left Shell Cottage, and once they were back at Hogwarts he wouldn’t be able to go anywhere near her — his stupid Pure-blood friends would see to that. Making his decision, he reached out a hand to stop Hermione from standing and pulled her towards him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her firmly but gently as his lips found hers. The kiss started as softly as he had envisaged it before his tongue invaded her mouth, joy flooding his body at the sweet taste of her, even better than he had ever imagined her tasting.

When the kiss ended, Hermione looked at him in shock. She was almost numb and unable to understand why Draco had just done that to her. She knew he was grateful to her for saving him — but not that grateful, surely?

‘What are you doing?’ she asked worriedly as Draco pulled her back towards him for another kiss.

‘Kissing you,’ Draco replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to be doing.

‘Well, stop it,’ Hermione said. She tried to push him away from her but only partially succeeded.

‘What’s the matter — you’re not scared of me, are you?’ Draco enquired gently, refusing to give up his hold on her.

He wanted to kiss her again, wanted to experience her wonderful mouth once more and the lusciously desirable taste that was making his heart pound, but for some reason Hermione seemed almost horrified by what he had done. He had no idea what was causing her reaction; he knew it couldn’t be his kissing, he was well known throughout the school for being a fantastic kisser. So what was it that had her shying away from him as if she had been burnt?

‘Why did you do that?’ Hermione demanded.

She felt shaken after what had just happened between them, caught between horror that her worst enemy had just kissed her and the sick knowledge that the kiss had been completely wonderful and she wanted it to happen again. Draco had always hated her for what she was — her blood status was enough to make her seem worthless in his eyes — but he also hated her for who she was, cleverer than he and better at magic, too, even though she was only Muggle-born. She was positive that what had happened when she held out her hand to him couldn’t have been enough to change his long-held opinions about her, so it had to be some sort of aberration, and not something she should be encouraging.

‘Because I wanted to,’ Draco told her honestly. ‘I’ve often wondered what you would taste like if I kissed you, but this was the first opportunity I’ve ever had to actually do it.’

He frowned for a moment as he realised that wasn’t quite true. There was another time when he could have. . . . He shooed the thought away. It hadn’t happened and there was no point in thinking about what-ifs and maybes, not when he had Hermione right here in his arms, her lips so close that it would take very little effort on his part to kiss them again. But apparently this answer didn’t give Hermione the reassurance she wanted; she was still looking at him as if he had tried to hex her rather than kiss her. Draco decided he had nothing to lose by being honest with her. At worst he would get a rejection, and he could decide what to do about that if it happened; but hopefully it would get him closer to Hermione, get him more of those wondrous kisses, and maybe if he was extremely lucky, even more than that.

‘You know, I reckon you and I could be good for each other, Hermione. I think we’d make a good couple,’ he said, trying to make her realise that he was being serious about this. He reached out his hand to stroke Hermione’s cheek gently as he gazed at her, not trying to pull her back yet although he held her tightly enough that she couldn’t escape.

‘Well, that’s never going to happen,’ Hermione retorted as she tried unsuccessfully to pull out of Draco’s arms.

He squeezed her tighter, drawing her closer again; annoyance building in him that she was rejecting him. ‘That’s not true. We’re already together. Look at us now.’

‘That was one kiss, Draco, and it was only because you feel grateful to me for getting you away from Malfoy Manor,’ Hermione insisted.

Draco sighed and pulled her as close as he could. He pressed his lips against hers, a prelude to the kiss he so badly wanted to bestow. Hermione looked distressed so he claimed only a peck before looking at her again.

‘You’re right, I do feel grateful for what you did, but that isn’t the reason I kissed you,’ Draco said.

Hermione looked at him sceptically.

‘Why wouldn’t I want to kiss you, Hermione? You’re beautiful, intelligent and strongly magical — you’re perfect for me,’ Draco insisted.

‘And Muggle-born,’ Hermione reminded him tartly. ‘Don’t forget that. That will never change, however much you might want it to.’

‘So why would that matter?’ Draco asked, and he grinned at her as if blood status had never been a problem between them.

Hermione sighed and she tried to pull away again. ‘Don’t try to be cute with me, Draco, it doesn’t suit you . . . and I know what you’re like, remember?’

Draco swept her up into his arms again.

‘I’m serious, Hermione,’ he said, dropping the grin. ‘Look at the great examples I’ve had recently. My aunt is Pure-blood, which is supposedly so great, yet she happily tortured you for no better reason than because of your blood status, whatever else she might have tried to suggest she was doing it for. But despite that, even though I know she really hurt you, you held out your hand to me . . . were willing to take me with you. Why wouldn’t I want you after that, and why would I care what you are? You’re beautiful and caring and that’s all that matters.’

‘That’s easy to say when you’re stuck here with us, but I bet you’ll change your mind again after a few weeks back at school with those friends of yours . . . probably not even that long,’ Hermione retaliated.

Draco shook his head and tried his hardest to look sincere, although he knew Hermione was right about school.

‘I don’t care about them but I do care about you. I think there was always something there . . . that’s why we’ve always argued so much.’ His voice turned solemn as he added, ‘After the things I’ve seen recently I know I was wrong about the whole Mudblood thing — I really was an idiot, Hermione, although to be fair, with my family I didn’t really have much of a chance to come to any other conclusion. I know it’s probably a bit of a shock for you, as I’ll admit it was something of a shock for me to realise just how much I want you, but I think if you give me a chance we could have something really good.’

Hermione felt her heart beat faster at Draco’s words. She wished that what he was saying was true rather than him just winding her up; in a different way to how he normally did, but a wind-up nonetheless. The kiss was fantastic and there was that moment when she had thought he was going to do it again, but for some reason he had backed off, leaving her a little disappointed although she made sure not to show it. Draco was very handsome; and despite his personality that had left more than a little to be desired over the years, Hermione had to admit to a bit of a crush on him. She had even found herself imagining him as her boyfriend on several occasions. The fantasies were always completely unrealistic — they always would be when in real life he made fun of her and called her mean names — but there several times over the years she had imagined them kissing, and maybe even more, which was why she had been so surprised when it actually happened.

What wouldn’t she give for Draco to care about her in the way she had secretly hoped for, or even the way he had told her he felt! But it just seemed too good to be true. Whilst the urge to surrender to his kisses was almost overwhelming, and the fact that he didn’t want to let go of her made her feel good, Hermione knew she didn’t trust Draco . . . couldn’t trust him. Anyway, nothing could come of it. She had to help Harry, and Draco would be going . . . wherever it was he would go when he left Shell Cottage. Harry and Ron wouldn’t trust him to come along with them, and neither did she if she was honest. Even if she did choose to trust him, she could already hear the criticism that would be levelled at her by her two best friends, who would never consider Draco as anything other than an enemy. Even wishing was a waste of time because nothing could ever happen between them.

Draco was watching Hermione carefully as he waited for her to answer him. He was certain that she was less resistant to the idea of him kissing her than she had been previously. In fact, if anything he thought there might be some interest there in return, although she was trying hard to bury it. He decided to take a chance and grabbed her to him once again, his mouth finding hers for another beautiful and ardent kiss. His tongue pushed through her barely parted lips, searching for hers, causing her mouth to open as she kissed him back with equal fervour.

He could feel his heart pounding as they kissed; the knowledge that she was his, at least for the moment, made it race as his mind cycled through one scenario after another of things he wanted to do with her. But he had to take it slowly. Hermione probably didn’t trust him — her friends certainly didn’t — and he had to make her understand that he was serious in his desire for her. As another kiss was followed by another, Draco considered that it was he, not Weasley, was the one kissing Hermione, and his feeling of smug superiority reappeared. Perhaps what he had said to the redhead had been closer to the truth than he had thought.

But just as he was settling into the kissing, Hermione pulled away from him again, her face stricken with worry. Draco wanted to calm her but wasn’t sure if trying would make things worse. At least he had kissed her several times and she had kissed him back, so he knew it wasn’t all one-sided. If he allowed her some freedom now, it would be a starting point to build from in the future; now that he had kissed her that much he knew he could try again any time he was alone with her.

‘I was right, you’re wonderful,’ he told Hermione gently as he released her. ‘I’ve really enjoyed kissing you. I could do it all day.’

‘We need to get back to the cottage,’ Hermione said, apparently ignoring his words.

Draco took her hand and stroked it. ‘I was serious about you and me, Hermione. Please give us a chance.’

Hermione gave him a pleading look, although Draco couldn’t work out what she meant by it. He leant forward and gave her one final kiss on the lips and then stood up, holding his hand out to pull her up.

‘Come on, then, let’s go back. I just hope Weasley isn’t going to give you a hard time again.’

Hermione gave a small, unhappy snort. ‘I don’t think he can do anything but, at the moment.’

‘Well just ignore him, then. He’s being a prat.’

‘He’s angry because I brought you along and he can’t conceive of any reason why I would,’ Hermione said. She realised Draco was still holding her hand and she let go.

‘I told you he’s jealous,’ Draco said, trying not to feel disappointed at Hermione releasing his hand.

‘But he hasn’t got anything to be jealous about,’ she replied.

‘Oh, I don’t know. I bet he wishes he could kiss you the way I’ve kissed you this morning,’ Draco told her.

Hermione stared at him sharply. ‘You mustn’t tell him . . . not him or Harry . . . or anyone. Do you understand?’

Draco sighed but he nodded. ‘It’ll be our little secret,’ he said with a wink.

‘I mean it, Draco. I’ve got enough problems with Harry and Ron without having to explain to them why I kissed you,’ she said, looking exasperated.

‘Well, perhaps you can explain it to me,’ Draco said.

Hermione shook her head. ‘Let’s just forget it ever happened. We need to go back to the cottage.’

Draco wrapped his arms around her waist, cuddling her tightly.

‘I don’t want to forget about it, Hermione,’ he said quietly. ‘I want more, not to forget.’

‘It’s not possible. Now let me go,’ Hermione responded tartly.

Draco released her, and without another word, Hermione began to stride out of the sand dunes towards the beach. Draco watched her go, admiring everything about her, then he followed, catching her up easily as they walked back towards the cottage.           

 

 

(♥_♥)

 

 

Ron knew he was being petty in his treatment of Hermione and was also aware that he was beginning to lose the others’ support, but he just couldn’t help himself. Harry had told him he was acting like he had before he had deserted them while they were camping, but Ron knew this was different. Back then, the feelings inside him had been exacerbated by that bloody locket — making him paranoid so he saw things that weren’t really happening. This time he was reacting to things he could see with his own eyes and there was no Horcrux to skew his view.

At first he had been furious with Hermione for reaching out her hand to Malfoy as if he was a friend, removing him from the fate Ron was so strongly convinced he deserved and instead placing him among Ron’s own family, putting them in danger, without a thought about how what she had done would affect everyone else. He honestly couldn’t understand why she had been so stupid. Her explanation that she had felt sorry for the loathsome Slytherin enraged him beyond belief. He couldn’t believe after all the terrible things Malfoy and his family had done to Hermione over the years, including torturing her only minutes before Dobby’s rescue, that she had been stupid enough to bring along one of the enemy. He could only conclude that the torture Bellatrix Lestrange had put her through had seriously damaged her mind.

But then she refused to show remorse for what she had done, insisting on treating Malfoy as if he was a victim and that she had done a good thing in rescuing him. That infuriated Ron even more. Every confrontation with her about it had turned into a bitter argument and he found himself calling her the sort of names that no true friend should ever say, but even then he still didn’t seem to be able to forgive her. It didn’t help that Malfoy was there, constantly, with that smirk that Ron longed to wipe off his smug face; which was enough in itself to have his temper rising. But then the boy had begun to suggest, subtly at first but then coming right out and saying it, that Hermione had saved him because she fancied him, and Ron’s temper skyrocketed into the stratosphere.

Ron tried to tell himself that Malfoy was talking crap and was just trying to provoke him, as Harry had several times tried to point out, but he couldn’t make himself listen. If Hermione would only admit she had been wrong to blight them with Malfoy’s presence, or at least distance herself from him as Ron and Harry had done, that would be something. But instead she was talking to Malfoy in the same way she did everyone else, treating him as if he had never been their enemy, and Ron couldn’t stomach it.

He knew he had to talk to Hermione, had to make his peace with her because Harry needed them both to work on finding this possible new Horcrux. But Ron wasn’t sure how he could do that. Her refusal to admit that she had done anything wrong made it impossible for him to forgive her. It didn’t help that everyone seemed to think he should be the one apologising as if he was the one in the wrong. Was he honestly the only one who thought what Hermione had done was nothing short of criminal? He couldn’t believe that was the case; he wasn’t the only one who’d had a go at her about it when they first arrived at the cottage. But it seemed that everyone else had all too easily given up their condemnation of her actions, so now he was the only one still giving her grief about it.

And now, when he wanted to talk to Hermione, to tell her that she needed to help him and Harry with their planning rather than disappear off on her own all the time, she was nowhere to be found. A wicked little voice in his mind pointed out that Malfoy seemed to have disappeared as well but Ron didn’t want to hear it, just as he didn’t want to admit that the reason she was disappearing was because of the way he was treating her. There was nothing going on between Hermione and that slimy Slytherin. It was all lies spread by Malfoy to make Ron feel uncomfortable, just as Harry had said. Despite her stupidity in bringing him here, Hermione would never lower herself to doing anything with Malfoy, not after all the things he and his family had done to her over the years.

Ron wandered into the lounge, knowing that Harry was off talking to Griphook about something but hoping he might find Hermione there. His heart sank as he realised that instead, he had to contend with ‘Looney’ Luna, with whom he had never had a particularly good relationship. She was such an odd girl and he had no idea how her brain worked most of the time, which made him feel rather uncomfortable around her. For a moment he thought about retreating, but he realised that she had never condemned Hermione for bringing Malfoy to the cottage so she had continued to talk to her. It was possible the girl knew where Hermione could be found.

‘Do you know where Hermione is, Luna?’ he asked, hoping the girl wasn’t off on one of her flights of fancy.

Luna stared at him with an intensity that Ron always found disturbing, but she didn’t say anything. He wondered whether she had actually heard his question.

‘Have you seen—’ he began.

‘Hermione? She’s with Draco, of course,’ Luna told him with a smile. Ron’s heart sank at the thought, although he was determined not to think the worst. ‘They make such a lovely couple, don’t they? I think it’s so nice that he’s finally admitted he fancies her.’

‘Has he?’ Ron asked sharply, then silently cursed himself for it.

Luna studied him for a moment.

‘Well, of course, he hasn’t actually __said__ anything, but it’s obvious, isn’t it? It’s quite clear that he adores her.’   

Ron looked at her in disgust. ‘You’re talking rubbish. Malfoy can’t stand Hermione. She’s Muggle-born — he wouldn’t go near her because of that pathetic pure-blood stuff he believes in. Anyway, she wouldn’t touch __him__ with a bargepole.’

Luna looked at him in that strange way again, then shrugged easily. ‘Of course — you fancy her too, don’t you? That’s why you’re not very happy about Draco being here.’

‘That’s not why I don’t want him here,’ Ron retorted angrily. ‘It’s got nothing to do with fancying Hermione.’

Luna looked surprised. ‘Really? Oh, well, I’m sure you know . . . although maybe you should have told Hermione how you feel about her before now. I mean, you’ve been friends for a long time and everyone knows you’ve had a thing about her for years. Perhaps if you had told her she’d have gone out with you and she wouldn’t be with Draco; then you wouldn’t be so bad-tempered and rude to her all the time.’

Ron snorted in disgust, his anger back with a vengeance. He needed to get away from Luna before he lost his temper with her, too. She had no idea what she was talking about and he couldn’t bear to spend another minute with her. Without another word, he stormed out of the room. Luna impassively watched him go, then sighed and shook her head. She looked over at Mr Ollivander, who had seemed to be snoozing in the corner of the room.

‘He really needs to sort his temper out or he’s going to get nowhere with Hermione,’ she said.

‘He is very angry with her, and knowing that the Malfoy boy fancies her doesn’t help,’ Mr Ollivander pointed out as he opened his eyes.

‘I think she did the right thing saving Draco,’ Luna said after a few seconds of thought. ‘He seems to be much nicer now. That’s because of Hermione as well.’

‘But you can understand why her friends aren’t happy about it,’ Mr Ollivander said gently.

‘Well, they’ve always hated each other but it was all so petty really,’ Luna told him. ‘Hopefully, this will make them all see how wrong they are about each other.’

Mr Ollivander looked sceptical. ‘I hope you’re right, Luna, but knowing the characters involved, I wouldn’t hold your breath. They all have very strong opinions and it’s going to be hard to change them, as we already know from the way young Mr Weasley has acted since we got here. It will be interesting to see what development Mr Malfoy makes now that he’s been given a chance to escape his heritage. Let’s hope Miss Granger provides enough inspiration and Messrs Weasley and Potter don’t do anything stupid and stifle his growth.’

 

 

(♥_♥)

 

 

As Ron entered the kitchen, Hermione and Draco were just coming in the back door, both bending down to remove their shoes before tapping them on the wall outside to remove the sand.

‘Where have you been?’ Ron asked Hermione belligerently, deliberately and obviously ignoring Draco.

Hermione looked at him warily, her heart sinking at the thought of yet another argument.

‘I’ve been for a walk along the beach,’ she replied.

‘Did you go with __him?__ ’ Ron finally acknowledged Draco with a tilt of his head towards the blond boy, the emphatic sneer in the final word saying everything he felt about the Slytherin.

Hermione nodded her head but didn’t reply.

‘You went for a walk with that git?’ Ron repeated, his temper rising again.

‘Yes,’ Hermione said quietly, her voice quivering as she fought back tears. ‘I went for a walk with Draco. At least he doesn’t shout at me all the time like you do.’

Looking unhappy, she ran out of the room. Draco gave Ron a smug look and followed her out pf the door before Ron could say anything to him. Ron growled. He needed to get Hermione alone to find out what the hell was going on with her and Malfoy, and he needed to have a word with the Slytherin to tell him to keep his filthy hands off Hermione. But not at the moment. Now he needed to calm down, although he wasn’t sure what he could do to achieve that. Hermione was driving him mad, and now she and Malfoy were . . . were . . . . Ron didn’t even want to consider that what Luna had said might be true.

Harry entered the kitchen and walked over to the fridge to look for something to drink. He pulled out a bottle of milk and went to retrieve a glass from the cupboard.

‘Do you want some?’ he asked, waving the bottle at Ron.

Ron shook his head miserably. Harry poured the milk, then put the bottle back in the fridge. He had a horrible feeling from the look on Ron’s face that he had argued with Hermione again.

‘Where’s Hermione?’ Harry enquired.

Ron shrugged. ‘I dunno. She’s disappeared off again . . . upstairs, probably.’

‘Is that because you argued with her again?’ Harry asked carefully, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice.

Ron was immediately defensive. ‘It’s not my fault she’s so bloody touchy, Harry. Just because I wasn’t happy about her going for a walk alone with Malfoy. There was no need for her to get so stroppy about it.’

Harry sighed. ‘I thought I told you that you need to make things up with her, not argue more.’

‘But she was with Malfoy,’ Ron whined as if that explained everything.

‘Not really surprising, because he doesn’t shout at her, does he?’ Harry said mildly. ‘I told you he’s trying to wind you up . . . and he’s succeeding. Every time you argue with her, Malfoy wins.’  

‘I dunno, Harry, I just don’t seem to be able to talk to her without losing my temper, and she doesn’t want to talk to me anyway,’ Ron admitted despondently.

Harry drank his milk, then put the empty glass in the sink and turned on the tap to run water into it.

He looked at Ron’s dejected face appraisingly for a moment then sighed. ‘All right, I’ll go and talk to her for you. But you need to try to curb your anger because we really need to get planning.’

Ron nodded miserably and Harry left the kitchen, heading for the stairs to the bedrooms. Once he reached the landing he knocked on the door of the room Hermione and Luna were sharing and waited for a few seconds before turning the handle and entering.

Hermione and Draco were standing in the middle of the room a little way apart from each other. The Slytherin boy looked his usual smug self, whilst Hermione looked a little disconcerted. Harry wondered for a moment what he had just interrupted and remembered Draco’s taunts to Ron. He pushed the thought out of his mind. It was unlikely that Hermione would be interested in Draco romantically. It was more likely that he had been consoling her after Ron’s latest outburst. Ron had definitely upset her again and although Harry hated to admit it, with the exception of arguments with Ron — which had quite possibly been started by his bad-tempered friend — Draco had been nothing but polite and friendly during their whole time at the cottage.

Now Draco moved away from Hermione, his hand brushing her arm briefly. He gave Harry a small smile then made his way out of the room, closing the door behind him. Hermione walked over to her bed and sat on it, looking downcast. Harry watched her for a moment, then sat down next to her.

‘How are you feeling now?’ he asked.

Hermione shrugged. ‘I’m okay thanks. The pain’s all gone finally.’

Harry smiled. ‘I’m glad to hear it. We were worried about you. It sounded awful what Bellatrix was doing to you. I thought Ron was going to break down the door of the cellar to try to get to you.’

Hermione gave a wistful smile for a moment but then her face returned to its sad look.

‘I’d never have guessed that from the way he’s been acting,’ she said quietly.

Harry sighed. ‘You know what Ron’s like when he gets in a mood.’ Hermione nodded. Harry looked at her intently, his voice more serious now. ‘Hermione, I need you to patch things up with Ron. It’s obvious he’s having trouble letting go of his anger, so you’re going to have to be the one to sort things out.’

Hermione stared at him angrily. ‘Why should I do it? It’s not my fault he’s being a real prat, Harry.’

‘I know that, but you’ve always been great at calming him down. I’ve already tried talking to him but he’s got a real thing about Malfoy, and when he sees you together it starts him off again. We’ve got things we need to do and I need both of you. So please, go and talk to him.’

‘It’s not fair of you to expect me to make up with him when he’s the one who’s been doing all the shouting,’ Hermione pointed out. ‘I’m not sorry that I helped Draco and I won’t apologise for it. If Ron doesn’t like it he can lump it as far as I’m concerned.’

Harry sighed again. ‘Look, I’ll admit I wasn’t happy at first about what you did, but after thinking about it I think you were right to bring Draco. But Ron’s always been so protective of you, and Malfoy keeps winding him up which doesn’t help.’

‘What’s he been saying?’ Hermione asked.

‘He told Ron you brought him along because you fancy him,’ Harry said tentatively.

‘He said what?’ Hermione looked furious. ‘That’s not the reason at all — you know it isn’t, Harry.’

‘I know that, and I’m sure Ron does too, somewhere deep inside. But when he already hates Malfoy and then you spend time alone with him, going for walks and stuff, it’s not really surprising he finds it hard to keep his temper in check.’

‘But we haven’t done anything,’ Hermione insisted. She crossed her fingers behind her back as she spoke. ‘I bumped into him while I was out walking, that was all, and he’s sympathetic, not moany. It makes a huge difference.’

Once again Harry thought about the way the couple had looked when he entered the bedroom — like they had just pulled apart from each other, but he didn’t point that out. Instead, he tried to appeal to her in the same way he had Ron.

‘Please, Hermione. I think I’ve located another Horcrux and we need to start planning how to get it.’

Hermione’s face lightened up at the news. ‘Really? Where is it? What do you think it is?’

Harry shook his head. ‘I want to talk to both of you about it at the same time. I’m not going through it twice. I need us all to be working together on this. I know you’re unhappy with Ron, and I can understand that, but please, Hermione, I need you to be the bigger person and go and sort things out with him.’

Hermione considered his words for several seconds, and Harry began to wonder whether things had gone a step too far for them to be put right between his two friends this time. He was just debating how he would manage to track down the rest of the Horcruxes without their help when she finally spoke, her voice resigned and weary.

‘All right, I’ll talk to him. But if he keeps having a go at me I’m not going to take it, Harry. I haven’t done anything wrong. I will try because you’re right, we need to move from here, and I think we’re running out of time.’

‘Thank you,’ Harry said sincerely. He took hold of her hand and squeezed it.

‘I don’t think it’s all to do with me or Draco, though,’ Hermione told him. Her face held a slight frown. Harry looked at her interestedly. ‘You know how much Ron was missing his family. I think now he’s here with them, even if it is only Bill, he doesn’t want to leave them again . . . and you can’t really blame him for that.’

Harry thought for a moment, then nodded as if agreeing. ‘Then he’ll have to make a choice: does he want to come with us or stay here? It’s up to him, but he needs to make the decision and make it quickly.’

‘What are we going to do about Draco?’ Hermione asked warily. ‘He’s been good as gold, but I’m not sure I trust him enough to take him with us.’

She realised her heart was beating faster as she waited for Harry’s response.

‘Luna’s going back to Hogwarts,’ Harry said. ‘I thought Malfoy could go with her. I agree that we can’t take him with us – it’s too dangerous with what I’ve got in mind. If he’s back at school he should be safe from his family and You-Know-Who, unless he wants to contact them . . . I don’t think he does, though.’

Hermione shook her head. ‘I’ve been talking to him and he’s really changed. I think he’s seen some terrible things since You-Know-Who started living at Malfoy Manor. He told me he saw Professor Burbage get killed by You-Know-Who and then eaten by that awful snake.’ Hermione looked nauseated. ‘Apparently, she tried to get Professor Snape to help her but he just ignored her.’

Harry looked horrified. ‘He told you that?’

Hermione nodded. ‘I think he and his parents have really suffered, Harry. Not Bellatrix. She’s too mad and too much in love with You-Know-Who to care what he puts the family through. But I really feel sorry for Draco, even more than I did before, and I actually think he might help us if we ask him to.’

‘That might be going a bit far. I don’t trust him that much,’ Harry said.

‘Well, just think about it. You never know when he might come in useful,’ Hermione ventured. She stood up. ‘I’ll go and see Ron, then. You’d better be ready if he starts shouting again, though.’

Harry stood up, too. ‘Well, if he doesn’t stop being an idiot soon I’ll be doing a bit of shouting myself.’

Hermione followed Harry out the door, hoping that this would be the end of her and Ron’s battles.

 

 

(♥_♥)

 

 

Although she and Ron had made up and were getting on much better, Hermione was still wary about letting him see her with Draco in case it set him off again. She wasn’t very happy to discover that the Slytherin had been winding Ron up by hinting that she fancied him, despite the fact that they had now kissed quite a few times. The fact that she did actually fancy Draco had nothing to do with why she had held out her hand to him, and she lost her temper with him when she confronted him about it; although at least it had the desired effect of stopping him from fighting with Ron, which eased the situation further.

She hadn’t been able to spend much time with Draco recently because she, Harry, and Ron were planning with Griphook how they were going to get into Bellatrix’s vault in Gringotts and they didn’t want anyone else to know what they were planning. But if nothing else, she needed to explain to Draco what was going to happen to him and the others. She wanted to say a proper goodbye to him, the sort of goodbye she could never say in front of her friends, so she needed to risk Ron getting a bit moody although she hoped Harry would stop him from going too far.

Hermione knew Draco had been looking for opportunities to get her alone so he could kiss her again, although she was quite jumpy about it especially after almost being caught in her bedroom by Harry. She wasn’t sure whether he realised what he had walked in on or not. Fortunately, he had never mentioned anything about it, but Hermione didn’t want anyone finding out that she and Draco were friendlier than they should be or the suspicion and arguments would surely start once more. She decided to go for a walk, banking on the fact that Draco would probably follow, and she was correct in her assumption. He hurried to join her, and now they lay amid the sand dunes. The weather was unseasonably warm and sunny with only a gentle breeze making the seagrass rustle whisperingly as they kissed.

‘I think we’re going to be leaving Shell Cottage tomorrow,’ Hermione told him as they came up for air.

Although she knew they had to leave eventually, she had completely fallen in love with the cottage and the wonderful beach it overlooked, and she really would be sad to go. She just hoped she would be able to return one day.

‘I didn’t think we were going to stay here forever, although I sort of wish we could as it’s such a nice and peaceful place,’ Draco said wistfully. ‘I know we were just waiting for everyone to recover. I suppose we’re going to go back to school, are we?’ He grabbed her hands. ‘I know that when we get back to school I won’t be able to talk to you much, Hermione — you know how it is. But I’m sure we can find a way to get some time alone together.’ 

Hermione looked at him sadly. ‘You and Luna are going back to Hogwarts, Draco. Harry, Ron, and I have got other things to do . . . and before you ask, I can’t tell you what.’

Draco looked at her in horror. ‘But I want to stay with you,’ he said plaintively.

Hermione shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, but you can’t. Ron and Harry would never allow you to come with us. They don’t trust you, and I’m not sure they ever will.’

‘Do you trust me?’ Draco asked quietly.

His eyes held hers anxiously as he waited for her to answer.

Hermione nodded her head. ‘I do. I think you’ve changed . . . I’ve seen it. But I’m sorry, there’s too much animosity between you and Ron, and Harry has to do what he thinks is best . . . and I need to be with them, whatever happens.’

Draco pulled her back into his arms for more kisses, his stomach roiling at the thought of being away from Hermione. He had got used to being with her, enjoying the stolen moments they spent alone together, and he didn’t want to have to give them up especially as he wasn’t convinced he would ever see her again once they were parted. There was too much that could go wrong.

‘You said Luna’s going back. What about Thomas?’ he asked.

Hermione shook her head. ‘Dean’s Muggle-born. He can’t go back to Hogwarts at the moment — it’s too dangerous. Bill’s going to take him and Mr Ollivander to stay with other members of the Order of the Phoenix until all this is settled.’

‘And Griphook?’

Hermione debated what to say. She knew she mustn’t give away any of their plans but she really did think she could trust Draco; she hadn’t just said it to make him feel better.

‘I suppose he’ll go back to Gringotts,’ she said as if she hadn’t really given it any thought. ‘Apparently, he was the goblin that took Harry to his vault the first time he visited the bank.’

‘Really? That’s strange — all those goblins working at the bank, and the one aunt Bella catches is the only one Potter knows. Funny how things work out.’

Draco wrapped his arms more tightly around Hermione.

‘So where are you three going? Can I at least ask that?’ he asked.

Hermione shook her head. ‘I don’t know exactly. Harry has some stuff he has to do to help him defeat You-Know-Who and it could take us anywhere. Ron and I just follow wherever he leads.’

‘I don’t believe that. I think Potter’s got a plan and you know exactly where you’re going,’ Draco accused. He stared at her intently for a moment. ‘Do you honestly believe that Potter can defeat the Dark Lord, Hermione?’

‘Yes, I do,’ Hermione answered passionately. ‘To be honest, Draco, I have to believe it, otherwise there would be no point in carrying on. I actually do think he can do it . . . but he needs all the help he can get.’

‘I can help you,’ Draco told her sincerely. ‘I __want__ to help you. I don’t want the Dark Lord to win, otherwise we can never be together, not properly.’

Hermione sighed. ‘I know you could, but as I said before, Harry and Ron don’t trust you. But if there ever comes a time—’

‘I’ll grab it with both hands,’ Draco promised fervently. ‘If you come back to Hogwarts I’ll help you.’

Hermione stroked his cheek. She was smiling. ‘I’ll hold you to that, you know.’

Draco leant towards her, ready to kiss her again. ‘Please be careful. I don’t want anything to happen to you.’

‘I’m going to be fine,’ Hermione assured him. He looked at her sceptically. ‘Honestly. I’m not going to do anything stupid.’

Hermione could feel herself mentally crossing her fingers as she said this and was surprised that Draco didn’t pull her up on it.

‘Well, I’m going to miss doing this,’ Draco said after he had kissed her several more times. ‘I was hoping that with lots of places to hide at Hogwarts I’d get to spend quite a lot of time kissing you.’ His mouth trailed down her throat, leaving whisper-soft kisses wherever it landed. ‘And maybe even something more.’

He had been moving slowly and was now lying on top of Hermione, his hands capturing hers as he held her down.

‘I want you so much,’ he told her, his voice full of desire. ‘Let me love you, Hermione.’

Hermione shook her head. ‘We mustn’t, Draco.’ Worriedly she added, ‘We should go back to the cottage. Everyone will be wondering where we are.’

Draco was dismissive. ‘I don’t care. Let them wonder. If we’re going to be parted soon I want to spend as much time with you as possible . . . and I don’t just want to kiss you.’

‘No, stop it,’ Hermione said. ‘Please, Draco, I’m not ready for this.’

Draco looked a bit annoyed. ‘Why not? You must know this is the way things have been heading between us. I love you, Hermione, and I want to prove it to you.’

‘I know you think you love me and I think I love you, too, but that’s because of the situation we’ve found ourselves in. You know this would never have happened if we’d been anywhere else, and it’s only been a few days, Draco. As much as I love kissing you I’m not ready to do anything else with you. I’m sorry,’ Hermione explained.

‘But what happens if we never see each other again?’ Draco asked. ‘You’re going off with Potter, and the Death Eaters are looking for him everywhere. If they catch you the Dark Lord is going to kill you. I think we should spend whatever time we’ve got left making love.’

‘Don’t be so pessimistic,’ Hermione told him. ‘Neither of us is going to die, and once this is over we’ll have all the time in the world to be together because all that blood status stuff won’t matter any longer.’ She kissed him tenderly, then said gently, ‘It’ll give us something to look forward to when all this fighting is over.’

Draco looked miserable as he released her, understanding that she wasn’t going to give in to him however much he pushed. He knew that as much as he wanted to take things further, he didn’t want to risk losing Hermione, especially if there was a chance that they would be together again one day.

‘I wish I could believe that.’ He sounded maudlin.

‘You don’t trust me to come back to you?’ Hermione asked.

‘It’s not you, it’s Potter. I just can’t see how he can possibly beat the Dark Lord. He’s going to get you killed,’ Draco retorted.

Hermione grabbed his hands and squeezed them. ‘No, I told you I’m confident he’s going to win. You-Know-Who has never managed to kill Harry and he’s had plenty of attempts now. I promise I’m going to come back to you, Draco.’

Draco stared at her for a moment. ‘Please promise me that you won’t don’t do anything stupid, Hermione. Don’t put yourself in danger.’

Hermione broke eye contact with him, feeling suddenly under pressure. She wanted to tell Draco that she wouldn’t do anything rash, but knowing how things had already gone up until that point, and aware of the giant and completely bonkers plan Harry had concocted with Griphook to get them into Bellatrix Lestrange’s vault, she knew it would be a lie.

The best she could do was to mumble, ‘I’ll be fine.’

Draco sighed loudly as he hugged her tightly. ‘Whatever you do, don’t die. I want you to come back safely.’

‘I’ll see you when this is all over. Everything will be perfect,’ Hermione told him. The realisation that they had so little time left together had finally hit her and it was making her feel weepy. She fought back tears. ‘I just hope you’ll still love me.’

‘I will always love you, Hermione,’ Draco told her fiercely, and his lips found hers for another passionate kiss.

Draco held her close as Hermione cried, feeling as keenly as she the loss they were about to experience. But eventually, they couldn’t put off going back to the cottage any longer. Hermione composed herself, and as the couple walked slowly back along the beach they both tried to convince themselves that tomorrow wasn’t going to be the last time they would ever see each other.

 

 

(♥_♥)

 

 

Hermione couldn’t believe they were finally going back to Hogwarts. Part of her was terrified; she was aware that they were reaching the endgame and maybe this time their luck would run out. Returning to the school was going to be extremely dangerous now that Professor Snape and his Death Eaters were in charge of the place, but Harry was adamant that they had to go there. He was convinced that Voldemort had hidden a Horcrux somewhere within the castle and they had to find and destroy it if they were to have any hope of defeating the Dark wizard.

When Harry first posited the idea Hermione’s heart leapt at the thought that she would finally see Draco again, but the closer they got to the school the more nervous she became. If Draco had heard about what they had done at Gringotts he was going to be angry with her as she had nearly killed herself several times, and before they left Shell Cottage he had tried to make her promise to stay out of trouble.

That was if he even cared any longer. What Hermione was really scared of was that spending time with his Slytherin friends would make Draco slide back into his old ways. She had thought about him every day since they left the cottage, sometimes missing him so badly that she found herself in tears, but she had no idea whether he still felt the same way about her. Her greatest fear was that she would find him changed, no longer the warm and tender boy she had grown to love but malicious and vindictive and ready to maim or even kill in order to help Voldemort. But he had promised to help them if they came to Hogwarts, and during the long journey to the school, she clung to this promise as if hoping it was true would make it so. 

Now they were back, hidden away with all their old friends in the Room of Requirement and Hermione had no idea how she would be able to contact Draco to let him know they were there. It was a delight to see the rest of the Weasley family, although it stung a bit when Harry and Ginny were reunited, forcefully reminding Hermione of how much she wanted to feel Draco’s arms around her. Dean was there when they arrived, stirring up trouble with Seamus and Neville, and she watched in amazement as ex-pupils she had never expected to see again, like Angelina Johnson and Oliver Wood, all appeared in the room via the tunnel from the Hog’s Head pub. Although it was nice to see so many friendly faces, there was only one that Hermione really wanted to see and it broke her heart to think that he would never be welcome here.

But she didn’t have time to think about that now; it was too dangerous for her to go searching the castle for Draco and anyway they had a Horcrux to find. At the moment it was looking like it was going to be an impossible task. The only thing Harry knew about it — and even that was more a guess based on the previous Horcruxes than anything else — was that it was something that had belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw. Fortunately, there were some Ravenclaws in the Room of Requirement — Luna, of course, and also Harry’s ex-girlfriend Cho Chang, and eventually they suggested that it could be something known as the Lost Diadem.

Hermione joined Ron in going to the Chamber of Secrets to find basilisk fangs so they could destroy the remaining Horcruxes, whilst Harry and Luna headed off Merlin only knew where to find out more about the diadem. When they finally met up again, Harry told them they needed to go back to the Room of Requirement — not as it was when they arrived at the school, but as it had been when Harry hid the Half-Blood Prince’s potion book.

Hermione was torn between wanting to help her friend and wanting to find Draco. Both Harry and Ron had been reunited with the people they loved, so why shouldn’t she get to spend a few minutes with Draco? But guilt overwhelmed her before she even had time to process the thought properly. Even if Draco was still in love with her there could never be anything between them unless Voldemort was defeated, and Harry couldn’t defeat him if they didn’t find and destroy the Horcruxes. Putting Draco out of her mind, she followed her friends as they raced back to the corridor with the stretch of wall behind which was the Room of Requirement.

The door appeared on the third run past. Hermione’s eyes widened when she saw the size of the room as they entered it. It was the size of a cathedral, and completely silent. The entire place was full of towering walls of discarded objects, things hidden by countless students over the centuries. Hermione’s heart sank at the thought that they would have to search the vast, cavernous room without even really knowing what it was they were searching for. Harry began to lead them, certain he was sure of the direction. After a few minutes, however, he stopped, seeming unsure of which way to go next.

‘ _ _Accio diadem__!’ Hermione cried desperately, hoping that this would solve their problem. But nothing moved. She sighed as she realised it wasn’t going to be that easy.

‘We need to split up,’ Harry told them. ‘We’re looking for a stone bust of an old man wearing a wig and a tiara. It’s standing on a cupboard, and I’m sure it’s around here somewhere. . . .’

Hermione and Ron raced up adjacent aisles as Harry continued on the path he was already on. Hermione hadn’t gone far when she heard voices. Her heart pounding with terror that the Death Eaters had found them, she abandoned her search to head towards the chattering group. There were several people talking to Harry, and as Hermione peered carefully around the corner of the stack she was shocked to see that it was Draco and his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, all of whom had their wands out. Hermione willed her heart to quieten so she could hear what was being said, her blood pumping so hard it was deafening. She wasn’t sure, but from the way they were standing she got the impression that Draco was confronting Harry rather than helping him. A shard of pain slid into her heart as she realised that her friends had been right all along: Draco really was an untrustworthy snake.

She listened, careful not to give herself away, as Crabbe and Goyle explained how they intended to take Harry to Voldemort, but at that moment Ron called out to Harry. Crabbe pointed his wand at a stack of junk and shouted, ‘ _ _Descendo_!_ ’

Hermione screamed as the huge stack began to collapse. She saw Draco look around, desperately trying to work out where she was. He tried to stop Crabbe from casting the spell again, but it appeared the mean-looking boy had realised Draco wasn’t on his side any longer and wasn’t willing to listen to his orders. Crabbe aimed for Harry, sending a Cruciatus Curse his way, but Harry was lunging for a statue that Hermione had just spotted and the curse missed.

Draco launched himself at Crabbe in an effort to stop him, but Crabbe had gone wild and was still trying to hex Harry. Hermione rounded the corner and sent a Stunning Spell towards Crabbe’s head, but it missed. Then she had to dive out of the way as the enraged boy sent a Killing Curse her way. The last thing Hermione saw before she landed in a pile of junk was Draco trying to grab Crabbe’s arm to deflect the spell.

For a moment Hermione had no idea what was going on. Crabbe was now sending a Killing Curse towards Ron, who had joined them, while Goyle tried to retrieve his wand that he had dropped. Hermione launched herself towards them, hitting Goyle with a Stunning Spell as Harry searched in the pile of debris for the diadem that had disappeared after being hit with one of Crabbe’s spells.

But then there was terror — Crabbe and Ron charged down the aisle towards them, fear on their faces and a roaring, billowing noise following them.

‘RUN!’ screamed Harry as he realised that it was a massive wall of flames, like nothing they had ever seen before and apparently unstoppable.

For a moment Hermione and Draco were reunited but as they ran they were parted again by Goyle, who was having trouble getting away from the flames. Hermione didn’t look back but kept running; she could feel the heat at her back but didn’t dare stop. Soon she realised the flames were coming from the other direction, too. The fire was mutating into nightmarish fiery beasts and it was forming a wall around them. They were trapped.

Harry had grabbed a pair of broomsticks and handed one to Ron, who grabbed Hermione and pulled her onto the broom behind him.

Hermione whimpered, trying to spot Draco but seeing nothing but flames.

‘What about Draco?’ she shouted at Ron, but he ignored her as he tried to find a way around the wall of fire.

She tried again, calling out to Harry as they came alongside him. Harry looked at her for a moment, then nodded and guided his broom back into the flames. Ron raced after him, swearing loudly, and Hermione closed her eyes, the swooping and diving making her feel sick.

‘What are you doing? We need to get out of here before we get killed,’ Ron shouted, looking at Harry as if he was mad.

‘We need to get Malfoy. He was trying to help us — we can’t leave him here,’ Harry said.

Ron made a scornful noise. ‘I’m not saving him just so he can muscle in on Hermione again.’

Harry looked at him in exasperation. ‘He’s going to __die__ if we don’t help him. Anyway, do you want to have to face Hermione if we don’t save him?’

Ron sighed resignedly, his face grim. ‘Good point.’

Having found no trace of the Slytherins when they dived, the two boys flew up again, eventually finding Draco and Goyle perched on a tower of desks. Goyle was unconscious and Draco, his face paler than ever, was desperately trying to keep him from falling into the fire below. Harry grabbed at Draco as Ron hauled Goyle up, screaming at Hermione to help him, and then they were heading for the door. Crabbe was nowhere to be seen, presumably eaten up by the fire he had conjured. Hermione watched in horror as Harry and Draco’s broom dived once more and she screamed, terrified, as Ron turned their broom away, heading for the door.

As she tumbled to the floor outside the Room of Requirement, shaking and dizzy, Hermione stared back at the open door for what seemed like an eternity but was in reality only a few seconds, praying that Harry and Draco would make it out. A moment later they burst out of the room, the broomstick smashing into the wall on the other side of the corridor and tumbling them both onto the floor. Hermione gave a small whimper of joy and crawled towards them. Draco looked as out of it as Goyle, but Harry stood up.

‘What’s that on your arm?’ Hermione asked him.

‘What? Oh, yeah—’

Harry pulled the diadem from his wrist. As he did it began to smoke and a thick, dark substance oozed from it.

‘Well, at least we don’t have to work out how to destroy it,’ he said, trying to sound cheerful.

The sound of yells, shouts, and the noise of duelling came to them from down the corridor as the fighting came their way. Grabbing their wands, Harry, Ron and Hermione ran forward to help their friends who were now battling Death Eaters. Behind them Draco got to his feet, looking stunned. He saw Hermione and hurried forward to help her, trying to protect her as a Stunning Spell came in her direction.

And then there was a huge explosion and the world was torn apart. Hermione found herself covered with the wreckage of the corridor that had been rent apart by a huge blast. Draco, who had managed to pull himself clear of the carnage, went to help her up, wrapping his arm around her shoulder as he helped her to stand. He looked around in terror at the noise that suddenly erupted from nowhere; a cry of agony so sharp it sliced through bone and flesh. Looking around, Hermione and Draco realised that Ron and his brothers were grouped together right next to where the wall had blown apart. Slowly, the couple moved towards them as someone shouted, ‘No!’ over and over again.

Not wanting to see but at the same time needing to, Hermione moved away from Draco to join Harry as they made their way to where Ron stood, looking shell-shocked. She gasped as she saw the reason for the screaming. Fred, his eyes still open but staring without seeing, lay dead at his brother’s feet. She suddenly felt faint and stifled a cry as Draco wrapped his arms around her and pulled her away.

 

 

(♥_♥)

 

 

Draco had no idea where Hermione had gone. Once they had got over the shock of the Weasley twins’ death she had disappeared off with Potter and Weasley, telling him that he couldn’t go with them. He had tried to argue with her, not wanting her to put herself in more danger now that he had finally got her back, but she was adamant and instead sent him to join Weasley’s family and most of the rest of the school in fighting against the Death Eaters. It had turned out to be much easier than he had expected. There were so many spells flying around that no one even noticed he was fighting against rather than for the Dark Lord’s followers and he was amazed to discover that he didn’t feel at all guilty about doing it.

But now the fighting was finally over, the Dark Lord defeated by Potter just as Hermione had told him he would be, although Draco had no idea how the boy had achieved that magnificent feat — and once again the trio were nowhere to be seen. He tried to fight down the feeling of jealousy that coursed through him at the thought that Weasley was with the girl he loved. Draco wasn’t sure how Hermione felt about him now — whether she still harboured those feelings of love that she had professed to have back at Shell Cottage; he hadn’t had a chance to find out with everything that had happened since he had found her in the Room of Requirement, but he couldn’t help remembering that she and Weasley had been together, without him, for several weeks — more than enough time for the redhead to try to win her off him.

He wanted to search for Hermione, to track her down and hold her tightly and never let her go. Draco wanted to tell her he loved her and had missed her terribly during the time they were apart and wanted to hear her say it in return, but now that was unlikely to happen. His parents — who he hadn’t even thought about at all during the entire duration of the battle, and who he was surprised to see, although he wasn’t sure why as the Dark Lord had been bound to bring them with him — were bearing down on him, having spotted him sitting on a pile of rubble as he tried to work out where Hermione could be. His mother looked so relieved to see him that he thought she was going to burst into tears, something he had never known her to do before, and his father just looked broken.

Although Draco was desperate to see Hermione again, a wave of love for his parents washed over him and he realised that he had missed them desperately. His fear that the Dark Lord had killed them after his escape to Shell Cottage had caused him to try to block them out of his mind for the last few weeks. Wearily he stood up and walked towards them, first hugging his father, who gave a small strangled sob as he stroked Draco’s hair, then his mother, who was crying so hard she was shaking.

Worried about being seen and judged, Lucius Malfoy drew his family towards the side of the room, back into the shadows, as Narcissa continued to hug and talk to her son.

 

 

(♥_♥)

 

 

Ron and Hermione followed Harry back down the stairs; his only desire was to reach his bed and some peace and quiet. Molly and Ginny now stood silently, having seen the trio emerge back into the Entrance Hall. As the three approached, Molly pulled first Ron, then Harry, and finally Hermione into a tight hug. As she released Harry, Ginny snaked her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder.

‘It’s really over?’ she whispered hopefully.

He smiled down at her tiredly and nodded. ‘Yes, completely over.’

Molly released Hermione with a sob of pleasure at Harry’s words and looked around for the other remaining members of her family, needing to hold them close, too. Hermione and Ron stood waiting for Harry; they both looked almost as tired and shell-shocked as he did. Hermione looked around and wondered where Draco was, a little disappointed that he wasn’t waiting for her. She wanted him to hold her and tell her that everything was all right now and that he loved her, but he was nowhere to be seen.

She finally spotted him, seemingly hiding away in the shadows with his family. They were huddled together and his parents both looked distressed. Hermione longed to go to him and hold him, but although it was clear that his parents had suffered at Voldemort’s hands, Hermione suspected their views hadn’t changed and they wouldn’t want her going anywhere near their perfect Pure-blood son. She watched with growing dismay as the family began to move away, Narcissa holding onto Draco tightly as she guided him toward the exit, ignoring everyone as they were being ignored.

Suddenly Draco stopped dead. He pulled away from the safety of his parents, causing them to stop and look at him, Narcissa’s face showing fear.

‘Draco,’ she hissed, her voice sharp as she held her hand out to him.

He ignored her.

‘Draco, come on. We need to leave.’ Lucius’ voice was as urgent as his wife’s and he looked around worriedly in case they were drawing attention to themselves.

Draco stood his ground.

‘No more,’ he announced loudly, looking around him at the occupants of the room. ‘Voldemort is dead and all that pure-blood crap is finished, thank Merlin,’ he continued, his voice full of emotion. He ignored the shocked looks his parents were giving him and strode back towards the middle of the room. ‘I’m going to do what I should have done four years ago,’ he stated, his voice stronger than ever.

He had reached Hermione, Ron and Harry now, and without pausing he pulled Hermione into his arms and kissed her deeply as everyone looked on in astonishment. Then, before anyone could say or do anything, he swept her up into his arms and carried her out of the door of the castle.

‘What do you think are you doing, Malfoy?’ Ron cried out in dismay as he and Harry followed the couple.

‘It’s a whole new world out there, Weasley,’ Draco replied without stopping, ‘and Hermione and I have got a lot of building to do.’

He looked tenderly at Hermione.

‘I love you so much, Hermione,’ he told her honestly, then bent to kiss her again as he walked off. Hermione’s arms wrapped around his neck in response.

‘That git,’ Ron said, scowling as he shook his head. He watched the couple descend the stairs from the school, followed a short way behind by Draco’s surprised parents. ‘Can you believe she’d go off with him after everything that’s happened?’

Harry shrugged. Personally, he wasn’t surprised. Draco’s gesture was probably the most romantic thing that had ever happened to Hermione, and coming so soon after the despair and devastation she had witnessed tonight he wasn’t at all surprised at how she had reacted to it. What was more interesting was Draco’s assertion that he had been in love with Hermione for four years. That would date back to their third year at school and was about the time Hermione had hit Draco. Harry thought for a moment. Hermione had hit him because . . . because she was in love with Draco and didn’t want to admit it to her two best friends and maybe even to herself. All her desire, anger and frustration with the boy had been taken out in that one moment, and they had both spent the next four years trying to pretend there was no attraction between them. It also explained perfectly why Hermione had rescued him from Malfoy Manor.

Harry couldn’t help wondering how different things might have been for all of them if Draco and Hermione had allowed their true feelings to emerge earlier. But of course, that was never going to happen with the enmity between them and the way the wizarding world had been then. Draco was right: it was a new world and he and Hermione finally had a chance to be happy together.

‘How could she?’ Ron whispered as he watched the couple head down the hill towards the gate. He sounded betrayed.

‘He’ll make her happy,’ Harry said simply, knowing in his heart that this was true, however much he disliked the idea. He and Ron were just going to have to get used to Draco being a part of their lives if they wanted to stay friends with Hermione.

‘You don’t know that,’ Ron replied miserably, but Harry heard the defeat in his tone that said he was as aware as Harry that Draco __would__ make Hermione happy.

Harry looked one final time at the retreating figures of the Malfoys and Hermione, then turned away.

‘I need to sleep,’ he said tiredly and patted Ron on the shoulder as they made their way back into the castle.    


End file.
